796
Who Giants know, with lesser Men
Are incomplete, and shy—
For Greatness, that is ill at ease
In minor Company—
A Smaller, could not be perturbed—
The Summer Gnat displays—
Unconscious that his single Fleet
Do not comprise the skies—
More verses by Emily Dickinson
- Of Consciousness, Her Awful Mate
- To Flee From Memory
- Proud Of My Broken Heart
- I'Ve None To Tell Me To But Thee
- The Show Is Not The Show,